Picket Fence
by anevanescent-life
Summary: Stiles was tired. He was tired of his life that only to be filled with nothing but misery. Finally he decided it would just be better if he disappeared so he attempts to kill himself only to be saved and turned into a werewolf. Now he has to learn how to control his wolf while dealing with a guy who refuses to give up on him. Rated T to be safe.


A/N: I do not own Teen Wolf or any of its character. Characters belonged to MTV and Jeff Davis. This is simply for noncommerical use.  
I do not own anything but the plot.  
Also there is no Hale Fire in this story and Stiles does not know Derek.  
Derek is also only a year older than Stiles.  
Also this is the first time since I have written a fanfic so please have mercy!

Rating: T  
Pairing: Derek/Stiles  
Warning: Attempted Death in the first chapter, UNBETAED,

"Are you okay?"

Ninety percent of the time, a person will always say 'yes' to this three wordquestion but right now Stiles could only hesitate as he stared down at his fingers. His eyes flickering warily to the cuts on his fingers which were caused from paper cuts. They seemed a whole lot more interesting than the person in front of him right now.

His father had sent him to therapy when he noticed Stiles had stopped leaving their home unless he had to for things like school or lacrosse. It was not too bad at first but after seeing Stiles locking himself in his room for hours, the Sheirff decided he needed professional help.

Seeing the therapist at first was not too bad at first but after one year turned to three years and being forced to take medication, Stiles was tired of it. He was tired of it all. The meetings, the concerned looks, and the constant lying.

"Yea."

He nodded as he screwed on his fake smile on to his face. He had been practicing it for so long that even Scott and Issac believed him but it is not like he had seen much of the two werewolves. They were always off on their next big adventure and over time Stiles stopped receiving phone invitations to join in.

He never said anything, it is not like he did not know why they had stopped talking to him. He was human, their weakest link. He would be only dead weight especially in a few years. While many of his friend would retain not only strength and speed, Stiles would only get older and weaker.

It was just better to cut off the dead limb before the infection reached the rest of the body.

"I'm glad to hear that! I think it is time we can finally take you off your medication. Are you okay with that?" The therapist said as Stiles nodded, forcing his eyes to brighten up. Not like he had been taking the medication anyways, he had been medication free for two years. He did not need the pills to keep him sane because he was sane just numb. "You have made a lot of progress Stiles."

Yea, in becoming a better liar.

When people find out he was depressed, they always managed him cutting his arms or becoming "emo" but that was not true. For Stiles, it felt like he could breathe and act like an normal human being but on the inside he was empty as if his heart had been ripped out from his chest.

He felt heavy and each step seemed tedious. People did not believe him when he told them that he was depressed because he seemed so happy all the time and nothing bad happens to Stiles.

Good old Stiles.

Yet they do not get it, for him being depressed wasn't about being sad over a fight with his friend or failing a test. He felt numb and felt that he was simply a mistake. He is simply the part of the human race that is wasting resources and his only path in life was to live until he died.

He was dying.

"I'll talk to your father on the phone but things are looking up for you Stiles."

Stiles nodded as he grabbed his backpack, lifting it on to his back before leaving the office. He was tired and he did not know how much he can take it anymore. He had tried to talk to Scott but his friend was too occupied with Allison to notice, and Lydia barely noticed him. He was no one, simply the side kick or the comic relief of everyone else's stories.

His father even has Melissa to look after him now. Stiles should be relieved but then he remembers nights when his father shattered bottles of beer, screaming that Stiles was killing him just like he killed his mother.

It was his fault that his mother died.

Stiles clutched the strap of his backpack a little tighter as he got into his Jeep and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

_No New Messages._

He tried to refresh the page but he already knew it would only say the same thing. The last message he received was from his phone company, trying to sell him more deals. That was a week ago. He does not know why he kept checking, it would only give him more heartache every time he saw the blank page.

"I'm tired." He whispered again to himself as he started his Jeep and started to drive, looking out his windshield with a tired gaze. He had not been sleeping much, maybe five hours a day. His mind kept torturing him at night. Stiles sighed before driving in the direction of the preserve, his glance occasionally shifting to his backpack where his letters were.

He had decided that he going to die tonight. He had his notes to his friends prepared. He knew his father would not be home this early. He knew that due to the pep rally at school, none of his friends would be on the preserve except the Hale family but not like they cared for a regular human like himself. He found out from Scott that the family were werewolves but Stiles heard that they kept mostly to themselves so they never bothered with anyone.

His father would likely cry but Melissa is there to help him through everything. Scott would be... he does not even know what Scott would be like. They haven't spoken for three weeks. He always saw Scott with Erica, Boyd, Allison, Issac, Allison, Kira, Lydia, Ethan, Danny, and Aiden. He tried to catch Scott's eyes from the cafeteria in the beginning but eventually he stopped trying and started to eat lunch in the library. The librarian likes his company too much to make him leave. Their weekend movie plans soon disappeared when Scott stopped showing up for Movie marathons. Stiles just stopped expecting his friend to show up.

Many people have told him that it was stupid to consider death but that is because they are scared. They are scared of the unknown. They are scared of the possibilities but Stiles is not.

Death meant oblivion. The oblivion of his internal suffering. His suffering.

The end of the thoughts, the fear, the constant desire for companionship, and the loneliness.

He was tired of the void he felt inside of him that used to be filled with his father's dependance on him, and Scott's friendship but both of that were gone. Scott has his pack now filled with amazing people and creatures. Stiles isn't part of that. He thought he was at the beginning but over time he realized he wasn't. He was there because he was friends with Scott, not like the rest of the pack thought he was important. Most of them ignored his presence. Lydia barely noticed he is alive unless he asked her out. Scott.. he is too busy with his new girlfriend Kira.

No one was listening. He was crying for someone to notice that something was wrong with him since he found out he needed medication but he was drowned out like nothing. He was nothing. No one heard him in life then no one would hear him in death.

Stiles stopped when he reached the preserve and grabbed his backpack before pulling his key out of the ignition. He glanced back at the road that would take him back to town. A chance to go back to his life but he just shook his head before walking through the forest, making his way to the bridge. Below the wooden structure that was still surprisingly sturdy was a river. He quickly pulled the package of letter out of his backpack and set them down with a rock on top of them so they would not fly away. He also placed his phone on to the package.

Then he grabbed his jacket, pulling it off and leaving it next to his backpack. He would not be needing it where he was going.

"I'm sorry..." He whispered as reality seemed to catch him to him before he felt tears slide down his face. He was going to die and there was no cure for death, no going back and restarting. He was going to disappear.

I'm sorry everyone, I'm not strong. I cannot do this anymore. You don't understand and I can't explain. I'm sorry." Stiles sobbed as he wiped his eyes with his arm before glancing down at the river. The current was not too strong but the water was deep. At this time of year, the water was notoriously twenty feet deep. As long as he does not attempt to swim, he would drown and die.

He had already prepared himself mentally for the feeling of the ice cold water flooding his lungs. It was going to be painful but it would not be worse than the internal pain he felt now.

"Goodbye..." Stiles whispered as he glanced over at his phone, hoping that his life would be a movie for once and someone would send him a message, begging him not to do it. That someone actually needed him for something but that moment never came. His phone laid lifelessly on top of his letters. His heart dropped to his stomach as he climbed to the top of the ledge, glancing nervously down at the water. It was now or never.

He leaned forward and fell, closing his eyes as he felt the air resistance against his body. It was as if time froze for Stiles, all he could hear the growling of the animals in the forest, he could feel the win against his cheek, he could smell the purity of the land and water.

Then all he felt was cold water that enveloped his form.

He flailed and tired to reach the surface of the water when he realized he could not breathe. He gasped as air escaped his mouth in the form of bubbles. He inhaled and choked when water felt his mouth and lungs.

It was painful. He felt his life draining out of him.

_Goodbye everyone. _

_Love, Stiles._

Suddenly, he felt something tugging him up and pulling him back from his watery grave. It felt unnaturally warm as he struggled against the object, flailing and digging his nails into the object but it kept a tight grip on his arm.

Stiles wanted to stay in the water, his peace was coming soon. He was so close to the end of everything, he had done too much to suddenly have it all ripped from him but suddenly he felt himself flung on to the ground and something heavy on top of him.

It was person.

The person pressed his lips against Stiles and soon he felt air flooding into his system. Unable to turn away from the person's death grip, Stiles swallowed the air that was fed to him greedily. He did not want to but his body forced him to as he felt his lungs start to open up.

Stiles felt light, and he could barely breathe. His head was swimming and he barely caught the words coming out of the person's mouth. He heard anger and that made him inwardly cringe as he grabbed the front of the person's shirt gently.

When suddenly a scream ripped from his mouth as he felt a sharp pain in his neck as he tried to squirm away from the pain but was held down as the pain grew. Tears welled in his eyes as he gasped, the pain spreading through his entire body as he convulsed on the muddy ground below him.

"Relax." A voice said as the burning grew worse.

Despite the strangeness of his entire situation, Stiles felt relieved because if this was death then he welcomed it. The pain was almost unbearable but he felt safe, he felt anchored in the person's arms. For once he did not feel so alone.

Perhaps the man or woman is an angel or death coming to take him away. Either way, he welcomed it.

"Thank you..." He slurred breathlessly before everything went black.

So what did you guys think?  
Do you think I should continue?


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